


Whole New Take on Balance

by glacis



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:10:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't stop myself.  Because there just isn't enough parody flying around about the Sith's Revenge, and in honor of a guy who's secure enough in his masculinity to smooch his co-star on the red carpet in the middle of London.  Here's to ya, EMcG!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whole New Take on Balance

_Whole New Take on Balance_

 

Ah, life was good.  Cody the Clone gave him back his light saber, General Grievous fell to his blaster (how… uncouth… but how nice to finally end it), Anakin was back on Coruscant taking care of politics, and out of nowhere, the Council decided he, Obi-Wan, should take a holiday!

Considering he’d been fighting a war for twenty years with his only days off being spent in the bacta-tank, it was an unexpected blessing.  So he did what he’d been wanting to do since he was a tadpole, and went glacier-climbing on Hoth for a month.  He’d get back to the war soon enough.  But for now, he was in an icy heaven, just him and the Taun Tauns, trekking through the snow.

Ah, life was bliss!

Meanwhile, back on Coruscant…

“You WHAT?”

Purple lightning flew from his fingertips as Chancellor Palpatine’s fingers began to singe at the ends.  Anakin flinched.  He was a miserable failure.  He was.  There they were, him at the head of the clone army, all set to march in and decimate the Jedi temple and begin his new life as a Sith and what happens?

Padme calls him on the emergency-only frequency and makes him come home with pineapple fudge-chunk ice-cream and Branson pickle.

It is nearly impossible to find Branson pickle on Coruscant at one in the morning.  By the time he’d found it, gone home, soothed his prickly pregnant wife, lost his dinner over her blatant enjoyment of the disgusting treat, and made it back to the temple, the temple Guard had taken the clones out for a night on the town and the invasion plan was out the window.

“I’m doing this for her,” he muttered fiercely, then knelt to take his punishment.  Loudly he intoned, “Yes, Master, what is your will?”

“Not that you aren’t quite pretty like that, Vader, my dear apprentice,” Sidious hissed with an unsettling leer, “but this isn’t helping my plans any.  The Jedi are no worse off than they were, other than the hangovers and potential blackmail material from the slave girls and dancing boys.  What do you propose you do to make up for your abysmal failure?”

Anakin thought hard and came up with very little.  “Uhm, sneak in and kill them all in their sleep?”

“All eight thousand two hundred ninety four of them?” Sidious asked dryly.  Before Anakin could begin to do the math in his head, Sidious went on.  “Although you may have something there… in their sleep… hmm.”

While Sidious was off in la-la land plotting death and destruction, Anakin felt the pager embedded in the hilt of his light saber buzz against his thigh.

“Ani, honey, I really, really need some Nutella.  And asparagus.  With fried eggs.”

“Yes, dear,” Anakin managed before closing the connection and ralphing just to the left of the Chancellor’s throne.  Sidious wrinkled his nose at the smell and glared at Anakin.

“Er,” Anakin mumbled, “I have to… er.”

“Oh, go,” Sidious sighed.  “I can see you’ll be no use at all until the brat’s whelped.  Go, then!”

As Anakin sidled out, holding his stomach with one hand as he whispered “nutella, asparagus, eggs, ugh!” over and over, Sidious shook his head.

“So very pussy-whipped, that one.  Good training, though… since she’s broken him my task will be all the easier!”  Sidious paused for a nice, maniacal laugh, then coughed and returned to his diabolical planning.  “Guess I’ll have to take care of the Temple on my own.”  As he began to enter variables on his GalactiMac, he sighed.  “A master’s work is never done… we really need more Sith… too much for one poor man to do…”

Meanwhile back on Hoth…

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO-EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Obi-Wan’s scream of pure unadulterated enjoyment echoed off the ice packs and caused a series of avalanches that, between them, carried off three small native villages.  From their vantage point on a ridge some ways away, Taun Taun One and Taun Taun Two looked at the Crazy Jedi Bastard body-surfing down the second-highest glacier on the planet then looked at each other.

Oohrerulk! (he’s nuts) barked Taun Taun One.

Lllluycchhh (but the money’s good) barked Taun Taun Two.

Not having any argument on that one, Taun Taun One barked Mmmurrth ptooui!  (he comes after my belly with that fucking light saber and I’m gonna shove it where the sun don’t shine)

Fruuumth, barked Taun Taun Two (that’s not for another few decades.  And not in this universe).

Kah! barked Taun Taun One (good!  I pity that other poor son of a bitch!).

And with that they settled down to eat lunch and watch their Crazy Jedi Bastard do Crazy Jedi Things.

Meanwhile back on Coruscant…

Sidious cut loose with a rolling maniacal laugh so perfidious and, well, overwhelming, really, that the foundation of the Senate building began to separate and curl inward, fissures blackening along the edges.  The senators were so impressed with this spontaneous architectural formation they immediately began a months-long debate on whether it qualified as art and should be preserved using public funds or was a previously-unknown marble-based hostile life form that should be eliminated using public funds.

Glad his eminent colleagues were distracted by such weighty matters, Sidious crept out the side door and made his way to the outside vents of the air duct system for the Jedi Temple.  Cackling (much more quietly, in case the Temple should get ideas and start manifesting artistic leanings) he dumped bag after bag of gleaming ruby-red dust into the vents.

Two days later, the Coruscant Daily Times reported a strange occurrence:

‘Members of the Jedi Order from the youngest younglings to the oldest oldlings, at all levels of training from crèche-member to Council Master, have reported catastrophic failure in their ability to contact, use, manipulate, and otherwise play footsie with the Force.  Where this leaves us, the unprotected citizens of the Republic, is anyone’s guess.  Chancellor Palpatine expressed his utmost sympathy for the sudden utter and absolute inability of the Jedi to be Jedi, and recommended they all take a nice long vacation somewhere on the Outer Rim.  Perhaps the Ewoks would have some suggestions for them.  Until then, to maintain order, he says, “I guess we’ll just have to send in the Clones.”’

Meanwhile in Senator Amidala’s private chambers…

“I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT’S GOING ON AT YOUR STUPID TEMPLE, ANI!  I WANT TO GO TO NABOO!!  NOW!!!!”

Anakin pulled his fingers from his ears and looked with soppy love and extreme irritation (a less-difficult mixture to maintain the further his beloved progressed in her pregnancy) at his glowing if now very round wife.  And at the blaster pistol in her wildly-waving hand.

“Yes, dear,” he caved.

That evening C3PO and Padme went happily home to Naboo.  Anakin ditched them at the spaceport and ran home to Daddy.

Er, Sidious.

Who was still crowing about his happy Sith dust (AKA unhappy Jedi dust).

“It deactivates the active midichlorians found throughout the host body without impacting any other non-Force-wielding life forms in the area, rendering the Jedi useless – Useless!  Useless, I say!  Their power is gone, they can no longer access the Force.  We, of course, are unaffected, my dear young apprentice, as the dust is only effective up to a maximum ability level, and you and I, of course, have such strength we are too far above and beyond the cut-off line for the dust to have any impact on us at all.  Other than disarming all the Jedi and leaving the juicy pickings to us, the Sith, of course!  The galaxy is ours, young apprentice, and we shall…”

“Brilliant, Master,” Anakin interjected at intervals as his master droned on… and on… for hours.

So pussy-whipped, Sidious thought, as he continued to crow.

Meanwhile on various planets throughout the galaxy…

Clones, given the Order 66, turned on their Jedi commanders in droves.

The Jedi commanders, not being on Coruscant and therefore not being dosed with Unhappy Jedi Dust, retained their full abilities in the Force.  Also, not being the incompetent, oblivious weenies that they are in some OTHER universes, they NOTICED that the clones turned on them.  And they FOUGHT BACK instead of simply falling over and dying.

So on worlds all over the galaxy, Jedi Masters (and their new allies, the Trade Alliance with Droid armies) fought Clone armies.  It was epic.  It was widespread.  No one on Coruscant ever knew, because the Forceless Jedi were too busy having panic attacks at being Forceless and the Senate were too busy debating art funding and Sidious was STILL crowing.

Anakin beat his head silently against the side of the marble throne.  Unfortunately living with and listening to Padme had inured him to constant verbal abuse and he had a naturally hard head, so he remained conscious and listened.

Sidious couldn’t have planned a better or more appropriate regimen for honing Anakin’s rage.

Back to the planets…

The only planet that didn’t join in the new face of war was the Wookie planet, because there was a sunspot flare just as the order was going out from Coruscant, and in the ensuing garbled transmission the Head Clone thought the Sith Lord said Order 6-2-6.

So that particular clone army invited the Wookies in for a big bong party/rave, at which Yoda wowed everyone with his cool urban breakin’ moves – his big combination was a helicopter (with one leg under him and the other one stretched out straight and moving in a circle on a horizontal plane, passing under the balancing leg and ending up in front, hard as it was to tell with such short legs) followed by a turtle (a complete spin of the body performed in the float position, accomplished by shifting weight from one arm to another, and placing the other hand out progressively in a circle, then switching hands and repeating the motion, clawing the crap out of the floor as he did so) then finishing up with a gainer (a running backward flip facing forward, performed by thrusting the entire body into a flip, launching hands and legs up and then tucking the legs up to the chest – all made much easier with a judicious application of the Force).

He tried a knee spin (all weight is balanced on the knee touching the floor while the other leg is raised and a spin is initiated through a push off with the hands; speed is increased after the flow of motion is established by pulling the hind leg into the body) but not having knees, he failed.  Still, he was the undisputed King of the dance.

The Wookies were so impressed they gave him piggy-back rides all over the planet, exhausting the clones so badly they got dehydrated and died, so when the sunspot had passed and the order was repeated, there were no clones left to execute it.  And so Yoda and the Wookies partied on.

Until eventually, much later, Yoda felt a disturbance (or perhaps better described as an unaccustomed stillness) in the Force, and headed back to Coruscant to check it out.

The Wookies mourned.

Meanwhile back on Hoth…

A whole month of slip-sliding down glaciers, cross-country skiing across drifts the size of continents, and hanging out with Taun Tauns, and Obi-Wan finally felt up to going back to Coruscant and being pummeled by politicians again (or at least sent to the far reaches of the Galaxy to confront multi-armed mad creatures with stolen light sabers, delusions of grandeur, and massive droid armies at their command).

Besides, he was kind of missing Anakin.

He was a little surprised that no one had contacted him, but inferred from the complete lack of disturbance in the Force (other than an odd maniacal laugh or two, but that was probably electro-magnetic current feedback distorted in the upper atmosphere) that the war was going well for a change and he should take his days off while he could get them.  Still, he was a good Jedi at heart, and so eventually duty began to hen-peck him.

Packing up his goggles, his last clean set of fur underwear, and his sturdy boots, he patted the Taun Tauns affectionately on their noses and turned to tramp up the ramp of his cruiser to head on back home.  He didn’t notice either the way Taun Taun Two mooned after him with big watery eyes or the way Taun Taun One spat jealously at his retreating heels, happy to finally have her mate back.

Playtime was over and it was time to face the music.

Meanwhile on Naboo…

Padme gave birth to twins and was so busy wearing out various Gungan nannies she completely forgot to ask where Anakin was hiding.

Meanwhile back on Coruscant…

Obi-Wan walked up the steps of the Temple, feeling unsettled and uneasy.  His footsteps echoed.  There was no sign of life, no hurrying acolytes, no screaming younglings, no kvetching oldlings, no indication the Jedi Order remained in existence at all, other than a huge scrawled message in what appeared to be either blood or raspberry jam across the arch of the main entrance.

“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here,” Obi-Wan read, fingering his chin and looking very confused indeed.  “Weird,” he muttered, then entered (abandoning hope, as directed) and headed for the main Council meeting chamber.

It was also echoingly empty.  Yaddle’s gimmer stick lay smashed to pieces against one of the seats, but there was no sign of blood, so Obi-Wan didn’t think there’d been an attack.

Mainly because there were also no signs of carnage, like, say, corpses, or gore, or blaster marks, or anything.  Just emptiness.

It was kind of creepy.

Walking gingerly, as if the sound he made might awaken ghosts, he stepped up to the holo-image table in the center of the room.  Normally it was used to receive Master/Apprentice reports from far-away missions, or watch troop movements, or late at night, to spy on the cuter apprentices working their way through the inter-species sex ed class assignments, but today it showed only one thing.

In a continual loop, holo-images of Master Yoda played, break dancing in the center of a large howling mob of Wookies while wailing Wookie techno-music played in the background and the occasional clone keeled over, looking dead.

Horrified and afraid, having never seen anything quite so scary as a break-dancin’ Yoda, Obi-Wan felt his legendary nerve fail.  He ran, almost but not quite screaming, away from the Council chamber.

He got as far as the elevators to the main level when he dove into one and collapsed against the cool metal wall, squeezing his eyes shut to try to rid them of the afterimage of Yoda in black leather spinning around on his ear-tips.

Dimly in the distance he heard an unctuous voice wheeze, “Here is your chance, my dear toothsome young apprentice.  Prove yourself to me.  He should be no challenge; he’s been here long enough to be thoroughly dusted.  Go to it!”

Finally realizing he wasn’t having aural hallucinations to go with the images burned permanently onto his retinas, Obi-Wan pried his eyes open to see his erstwhile apprentice, now Knight, Anakin, staring at him from a foot away.

Wow.  He’d really been on Hoth too long.  Anakin looked… hot.

Er, really good.

Yes, that’s it.  Quite stylish, really, with the flowing black cape with the drapey black cowl and the big-ass black leather boots.  Obi-Wan realized he was starting to pant and clamped his jaws shut before he did something really embarrassing, like drool.

“Soooo, Master,” Anakin purred.

Fuck clamped jaws.  Obi-Wan felt his mouth fall open and his tongue spill out. 

“Ghuh?” he gurgled.

Anakin gave him a truly wicked smile that looked strangely right at home on his angular young face, then put his fingertips under Obi-Wan’s chin and tipped his mouth shut, being careful he didn’t catch a tongue-tip between the teeth.

Then, in a stunning reversal of approach, Anakin leaned forward and down and kissed Obi-Wan.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOo-EEEEEEEEEEee! Obi-Wan thought, but since his mouth was full of Anakin’s tongue and it was impolite to speak with his mouth full, he didn’t actually say it.

Several long and enjoyable minutes (and one irritated throat-clearing out in the corridor beyond the elevator doors) later, Anakin broke the kiss.  Obi-Wan leaned against Anakin’s chest, looking glazedly up at him, grinning like an idiot.

“Who taught you to kiss like that, Ani?” he asked.

An odd, hunted look passed over Anakin’s face.  “Let’s not talk about her… er, that.  So, Obi-Wan, notice anything different about the old place?” he changed the subject abruptly and cheerfully.

The cheer was out of place with all the black, but he was on to something, so Obi-Wan ran with it.

“It’s empty, Anakin.”

“Ten points to the Jedi!” Anakin awarded brightly.

Obi-Wan looked at him like he was on drugs.  Feeling jet-lagged, missing his Taun Tauns and confounded by Anakin’s unexpected lip-locking talents, Obi-Wan stood dumb and waited for Anakin to get to the point.

A few minutes later, he gave up on waiting and asked, “What else?”

“Oh!”  Anakin started, having apparently gotten sidetracked by staring at Obi-Wan’s mouth.  “You know, I haven’t seen you clean-shaven in years.”

“Hoth,” Obi-Wan explained, since someone really should be explaining something and it looked like it would be awhile before Anakin got the hint.  “I went glacier-gliding.  Frozen beards suck, so I shaved it all off.  Plus, the ventilator masks work much better when they adhere to skin.”

“It looks…” Anakin trailed off and stared some more.  “…dimple…” he whimpered.

Obi-Wan twitched.  It was getting hot in the elevator.  He rubbed his jaw and squinted at Anakin.  Maybe it was Anakin?  Anyway…

“Yeah, I know, it makes me look like a kid.  ‘S’why I keep the face fuzz – only way to look my age.  Hard enough to get respect around here when you’re a foot shorter than everybody else to begin with, except Yoda, and I don’t want to think about him… Anakin?”

Anakin had drifted off, and drifted closer.  Then damned if he didn’t kiss Obi-Wan again.

It was a struggle (mainly because his arms didn’t want to move from their place clamped around Anakin’s waist and because Anakin had a hold on him an octopus would envy) but eventually Obi-Wan managed to break the kiss and gasp for air.

Evading incoming Anakin-lips with something like despair, he cried, “Anakin!”

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin cried in return.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” came a disgruntled wheezy voice in the corridor.

“What’s going ON here?” Obi-Wan demanded.

“Well,” Anakin answered slowly, “we’re kissing… and then maybe we can-“

“I meant with the TEMPLE!” Obi-Wan interrupted.

“Oh, that,” Anakin remembered, blushing slightly.

“Aye, that,” Obi-Wan prodded, his brogue coming through in his exasperation.

Anakin shivered in response but managed to get out, “Temple… hit with dust… made all the midichlorians dormant… wipes out Force-touch…”

“Shite!” Obi-Wan yelped, tearing himself from Anakin’s arms and whipping his light saber out.  It ignited, long and bright and gleaming, with no hesitation, and he heaved a great sigh of relief.

“Scared me,” he told Anakin.  “Thought I might be suffering with saberectile dysfunction.”

Anakin’s eyes were huge, matching his mouth, hanging open as he licked his lips.  “Oh, master,” he whispered, “you ARE strong!”

“Yes, I bloody well am,” whined the wheezy voice, coming closer to the elevator, “and if you don’t get a move on I’m going to come in there and show you just HOW strong!"

“Eh?” asked Obi-Wan.

“Oops,” said Anakin.

“Well?” Obi-Wan demanded, beginning to lose the thread, thin as it was, and getting really, really hot in the close confines of the elevator.

Anakin.  Leather.  Anakin.  Kissing.  Howl.

“Well, it’s like this,” Anakin rapidly explained.  “I’m the one chosen to bring balance to the Force and the way the Force decided to do that was to eliminate all the Jedi except for two, that’d be you and Yoda, and the Sith, that’d be me and Lord Sidious out there, champing at the bit in the corridor.  So, given that you and I are the only young and sexy Force-users left in the galaxy, what say we blow this abandoned Jedi-stand and go make hot Force-driven monkey love somewhere in the pleasure domes of Coruscant City?”

“You’re suggesting…” Obi-Wan thought about it, “that we explore the intersection of Light and Dark in the service of the Force?”

“Um, yeah,” Anakin agreed slowly, not really following the philosophy but liking the gleam in Obi-Wan’s eye, “just as long as there’s fucking somewhere in it.”

Obi-Wan beamed at him.  “I can work with that!”  He dove for Anakin’s sexy leather belt.

“Here?” Anakin asked, his voice rising an octave as Obi-Wan found his jewels through the layers of black cloth with the swift skill of a two dollar hooker with a time limit.

“What’s wrong with the elevator?” Obi-Wan’s query was muffled by the fact that he was unfastening Anakin’s trousers with his teeth.

Anakin, not the brightest of thinkers even when all his blood wasn’t rushing to his crotch, decided to go with the Force and worry about the rest of it later.

Several kisses on multiple body parts and a good few gropes later, Anakin got tired of the harrumphing out in the corridor and locked the door to the elevator.  Neither one of them saw the light of day for many hours, by which time they were well-ensconced in the Grey of the Force and loving every minute of it.

Meanwhile in the Corridor Outside the Elevator in the Main Jedi Temple…

“Apprentice?” Sidious whined, unable to break the Force lock on the elevator doors.  “Kenobi?  Can’t I just watch?  I promise I won’t touch anything…”  He huffed a scaled-down maniacal laugh, not having the energy for the full-throated version after clawing at the doors for hours.

The thump of a stick against his ankle made him jump and screech in agony.  When the pain tears cleared from his eyes he looked down.  From the vicinity of his knee, bright malevolent green eyes between multi-pierced floppy ears glared up at him.

Oooooh.  Yoda.  In leather.

Sidious’ eyes lit up and purple lightning began to dance off his fingertips (and other extremities).  Yoda gave him a filthy look and backed up, holding his stick up in a defensive position.

“Even think about it, you will not!” he snarled.

Damn.  Some days it just didn’t pay to be a Sith Lord.

_…_ _END_ _…_ __


End file.
